Nobody's Hero
by Noctilia Valida
Summary: After the final battle, Ginny mourns.


It was over. After five years of hell for the world, it was gone in just two words. It seemed so simple, and yet at the same time so convoluted.

And she should have been happy. All her sufferings were over. She could become the innocent and naïve girl once again, like she was before the war. And, in fact, everyone expected her of it.

But she wasn't. She couldn't.

She goes home each night alone to the empty and cold house. Each night she falls asleep to sound of her own heartbeat and the feeling of tears running down her face.

And it's only been five days.

Five lonely, desperate, and excruciating days. Her own little hell, she supposed.

And every night, in her dreams, she sees the same thing. The desperate kiss, the final words, and every night she can't get past the blinding green ray of light.

At first, everyone was so shocked that he died. He was the boy-who-lived. They thought that he couldn't die. So they sent him. They sent him on suicide missions, the impossible. But, he came back every time, further cementing the belief that he was invincible. She hated him for that. She hated him for coming back, for proving those fools right. But, at the same time, she was so relieved that he came back to her.

They thought they were so clever, raising a soldier. Someone undefeatable. In those moments, they betrayed him. They lost sight of what he really was. A boy. A man. A human.

Even his best friends forgot. Rarely did anyone come up to him without wanting something in return. At first, he said it hurt. He reminded them that he could only do so much. He stopped complaining after the fifth day.

After Dumbledore died, they needed a leader, a hero. He took that up when no one else would. He grasped at the sands that were frantically slipping through his fingers. But he held to each and every last one of them even if it meant himself. Eventually, he was considered invincible to everyone. He was the new and improved Dumbledore.

She almost fell into that trap, too. But she didn't when she saw him. It was the first and last day she asked him for orders. When she saw his eyes, she faltered in mid-question. They were so tired, so old. And his posture was slumped and defeated like he carried the world on his shoulders. And at that moment, she knew. She knew that they were going to win the war against Voldemort. But, she would probably lose him. Either by death, or from just the experiences of this damnable war. Nevertheless, she clung to him desperately, like he clung to the tiny grains of sand.

It helped him, though. She knew it did. He looked to her when things got too rough, too tiring. It was hard, but she wouldn't have had it any other way. She swore to herself that she wouldn't lose sight of what he really was, Harry, just Harry.

People died, and with each death, she became more and more apathetic to this whole war. They both became emotionless, tired. But she knew that he was carrying more weight than she could ever possibly imagine even if she was helping just the tiniest bit.

She would be fine, she reasoned to herself everyday, as long as both she and Harry either lived through this war, or died together. And she clung to that hope like a dying man.

But, now, that hope was gone, like the wind. Gone forever, for she lived with the least possible injuries, and he died bloodied and scarred. Died a hero.

The Burrow wasn't that much emptier. Her family was incredibly lucky. Only Percy had died. But, in Percy's place were Penelope, Percy Junior, and Bill's little daughter, Marie. Her family, though, had changed. Her parents had long lost their openness and hospitality. They were hardened. Bill and Charlie continued growing up, marrying and having their own little quaint families. George and Fred stopped joking as much, instead using their genius for the war. Ron had changed the even more. He stood proud and tall, a far cry from the shy and insecure first year and he became the leader of our family. Hermione instead of always listening to authority became authority. She was the one who headed all of the research, who eventually taught the spell that would kill the last Horcrux. That would kill Voldemort.

The Golden Trio was broken. Ron and Hermione were closer than ever and became The Golden Duo instead of the Trio for Harry was the hero.

In her family, she probably changed the most, loathe as she was to admit. She had grown up, even surpassing Bill and Charlie. She saw the one who saw the flaws, healed the cracks. Harry once described her as the glue that kept the whole resistance together, and he was right in a way.

She put on a happy face for mum and dad. She put on the good little girl for Bill and Charlie. She put on the tough girl for Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione. She put the silent support for everyone else, the consular.

She hated them all.

She could only do it because she had Harry. Knowing that he was suffering the same grievances and more, knowing that he was there for her and she there for him was the only reason she did it. But now, he was gone.

Her family expected her to bounce back after… it happened. But, she couldn't and they were ever so surprised.

And now, at his funeral, they talk of how good of a soldier he was. How good of a leader he was. But no one, not a single soul, had said anything else. She had prepared my own little speech, but now, it seemed inadequate.

She got up to the podium and stared at the crowd, full of reporters, members of the resistance, old school friends, that had all come to pay tribute for the boy-who-lived. She couldn't let them all leave like that, though.

"Cracks in the concrete, tears on a page, infiltrations of a building, demolished wards, deaths, are just reminders that you fall apart no matter how strong you are. But, you didn't know that, did you? You have all come here to pay your respects, to thank, the boy-who-lived, the man-who-defeated-Voldemort for killing this monster for you.

You are fools. Every last one of you are fools.

Even now, you speak of your hero, not your friend. You regale tales of the war, of his bravery. But, no one spoke of Harry.

You were and still are convinced that Harry was invincible, was undefeatable. Well, look around you now! He lies dead! Defeated…

And, it's all your fault. Every last one of you is to blame that he now lays in his coffin, dead, pale, and unmoving. You thrust burden upon burden on him and you expected him to cope. You sent him on suicidal missions that you wouldn't even think of going on, only to see him come back and send him on more. You assigned endless tasks for him to do only to ask him to do more. You…

I could go on forever of all the grievances you have committed to Harry James Potter. But, I'll spare you.

I have to say, though, the biggest error you have made was that you lost sight of him. Of Harry James Potter, a twenty-one year old friend, lover, son, person. And instead, you all saw, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the Chosen One, someone invincible, some god. You convinced him that he didn't have the right to cry, to show emotions, to show weakness. You convinced him that he didn't have the right to be human.

But, even heroes have the right to bleed. And he had that right more than any of you!

You made him fight for a world that has done nothing but injured him starting with the death of his parents. Did you all know what he wanted more than anything? He wanted freedom, and even now, after he is dead, you refuse to let him go. To let your blasted hero rest in peace. To let Harry finally find what he has been seeking for since the beginning of his magical education.

You disgust me. You are all bloody vultures. You are comparable to Voldemort and his minions. I could even say that many of you are worse than them.

He could have been saved. Yes, your precious hero could have been saved, but it was you in the end that killed him. When you put all these burdens on him, shoved this damn world on his shoulder, you killed him. He didn't have anything to fight for in the end.

I hope you're happy that he lays dead now because of your machinations.

I love you, Harry James Potter, my lover, my friend, my husband. I love you, thief-that-stole-my-heart.

Until we meet again."


End file.
